


Wedding Bells

by SxnsaStark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Also Bran ships Gendrya, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, Yes it had to be mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:26:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2663564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SxnsaStark/pseuds/SxnsaStark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which attending Robb and Theon's wedding turns out to be highly beneficial for Sansa and Arya both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wedding Bells

Weddings are definitely not Arya's scene. She doesn't like being forced to wear a clinging dress that emphasises her figure - or lack thereof - and having to smile for a bunch of stupid photos. She doesn't like a range of family members she hasn't seen in donkey's years approach her to talk about the weather and how tall she's getting (hah!) and Robert Arryn's process in school.

She also doesn't like the fact that it just so happens to be her brother getting married, and it's bad enough that he's marrying Theon Greyjoy - honestly out of all the people lining up for his supposedly "dreamy Tully eyes", Robb just had to fall for Theon (if you ask Arya, the only good thing coming out of this is her newfound relation to Asha) -  but to make matters worse, such an event causes Arya to be prone to the neverending questions about her special someone and the embarrassment that accompanies such a question. It's common knowledge that Jon and Ygritte are an old married couple who just so happen to be in their twenties, and everyone knows Sansa has just gotten out her relationship with Joffrey (good riddance) so she is spared from the torment. Even Bran has a romantic partner and he's obviously pretty smitten with Jojen Reed so Arya obviously has nothing against that, but it's pretty embarrassing that her younger brother has a better love life than her. (Rickon doesn't count. He's at that age where it's still socially acceptable to scream with mirth upon the mention of the word 'sex'.)

And she's so far been cornered by an assortment of family members and the like, so it seems perfectly acceptable to slip away into the recluse of the corner and pig on the food available. It's damn good food too, and there is some pretty nice wine on offer too and hey, she might as well make the most of it. She's halfway through her third glass and she's starting to feel a bit out of it when catches the best man staring at her. Theon's best man that is, Robb's best man being her half brother Jon who is presumably engaged in certain activities with Ygritte. But this strange new guy with the matted dark hair and vibrant eyes is definitely staring at her and she does feel somewhat self conscious but the buzz of the wine has given her a newfound attitude, and she bizarrely finds herself staring curiously at him instead of glaring angrily as she normally would.

And he smiles at her, and shit but if that smile isn't adorable.

\-----

Margaery makes a mental note never to do anything for Loras again. Earlier than week he had persuaded her to accompany him to his friends' wedding and she is currently regretting surrendering to her brother's pleas. When they had arrived he had ditched her to 'hang out' with Renly Baratheon, and ever since Margaery has been sitting awkwardly twiddling her thumbs. She's had a few semi-attractive guys hit on her, all of whom remained strangely amiable when she firmly turned them down, but aside from them, she's had zero interactions with anyone.

She's thinking of calling it a day because her shoes are seriously starting to cramp, and the couple have exchanged vows (and yes, Margaery did 'awww') and Loras is nowhere in sight, and the thought of a snooze at home is highly appealing and -

"Is this seat free?" asks a soft voice, and Margaery glances up and is taken aback. Possibly one of the most stunning girls Margaery has ever seen is talking to see, and motioning to the empty seat across from Margaery. She's got the same red locks as one of the grooms, and his startling blue eyes, although she is so otherworldly beautiful she easily puts him to shame.

"Yeah," she says breathily. "It is. Take a seat."

The girl smiles and exchanges a hand. "Sansa Stark, Robb's sister. I don't believe we've met?"

Her tone is polite and unwavering and Margaery can't help but admire the girl's firm handshake. "Margaery," she introduces herself. "Margaery Tyrell."

"Hey, you're Loras' sister? Who just came back from Essos?"

"Yeah," Margaery says, hoping she won't be forced to breech the topic of her brother's whereabouts, "I hope he hasn't spilled any of my embarrassing secrets."

Sansa chuckles and it's honestly so endearing Margaery wants to kiss her right there and then. "No worries on that front. He obviously adores you. He's thrilled that you've moved back here."

Margaery smiles sheepishly. "What can I say? I missed this place." And it's true, Essos is beautiful, and her brief stay there had been wonferful, but her heart remains loyal to Westeros.

"Why'd you come back?" Sansa asks. "I mean if you don't mind me asking," she adds hurriedly.

Margaery sighs. "Oh it's no bother. Just some complications with my girlfriend. Things got out of hand. We thought it would be better to have a fresh start."

"Ah," says Sansa in an understanding tone. She pats Margaery's arm sympathetically.

"You're not weirded out by the girlfriend thing?" Margaery asks, because while it's probably a very morally wrong thing to do to take advantage of Sansa's kindness, now is a good as time as any to see if her cards are liable to play.

Sansa grins wryly. "I'm at my brother's gay wedding," she says with a laugh. "Don't worry, of course I'm fine with it." A pause. "What was her name?"

"Daenerys," Margaery says softly, and she refuses to let the pain seep back in or allow the memories to arise, because their split was messy and it was just as much Margaery's own fault as it was Dany's. But she refuses to allow herself wallow in self pity, when she rightly knows Daenerys is currently basking in the beaming sun of Essos inbetween fucking Drogo or Missandei or Irri or Daario. (Hell, maybe even all four of them. Not that Margaery begrudges her for that. The girl has game, that is undeniable.)

And damn it, Margaery just has to know. "So what about you?" she asks hurriedly. "You bat for the other team?"

Sansa smiles again, and Margaery is tempted to kiss the corner of her upturned mouth. "Why Margaery Tyrell, are you flirting with me?" she asks silkily.

Margaery doesn't reply but smirks in relish, she can see the desire in Sansa's eyes and she knows where this is going.

Sansa extends a hand towards her. "Come along then," she says breezily. "There's a backroom in the venue that I believe with satisfy our needs."

Margaery grins and accepts the invitation.

\-----

Arya doesn't look away, doesn't even blink. If this is some kind of staring contest, she's here to win.

Mystery Boy makes a gesture, towards himself then to her; obviously insinuating a dance or a snog or whatever.

"Arya!" says a voice. "Are you checking out my best man?"

Arya glares. "Go away Theon. Shouldn't you be making out with my brother?"

"He got distracted," Theon says amiably. "Your cousin Robert is something else." Underneath the tone of distaste that is synopsis with all things Robert, Arya has to begrudgingly admit Theon does seem to care about her brother. Whatever.

"If it's any consolation," Theon says, "he thinks you're hot. Although he was careful not to say that within the hearing proximity of Robb."

"Can you -"

Normally when she's requesting something from Theon it usually follows through with a, "can you fuck off?" but today she wavers.

"Can you introduce us?"

And Theon positively beams at her. "Sure. But don't tell your brother."

"Shouldn't you be referring to him as 'my husband' as of this point?" Arya says wickedly, highly emphasising the 'my husband'. Theon glares at her, and in what he probably considers revenge beckons the mystery man towards them, before commencing a quick introduction that gives Arya more cause to glare at him.

"Arya, this is Gendry. Gendry, Arya. Now you both fancy each other and I'll be damned if I don't get at least one of my mates laid as a result of my wedding."

\-----

The back room has ample lighting and several sofas, and it's nice to sit down and relax and have a blissfully empty mind in which the only item of import is the softness of Margaery's mouth and the moans her tongue emit from Sansa. It's pleasant, and Margaery's fingers feel nice threading through her hair, and maybe it will all be okay again, but then Margaery uses her strength to push Sansa down slightly and it's nothing more than a light movement but Sansa can't help but abruptly gasp and shove Margaery away.  
"Sansa?" Margaery questions. "Shit, are you alright? I'm sorry, did I -"

"No, no," Sansa mutters. Deep breath in, deep breath out. She's been through this before, the heart pounding, eye watering memories being brought to surface, of Joffrey's callous whispers and vicious backhands. "It's okay," she says, more in an attempt to console herself rather than assure Margaery, "I'm okay." She gently detaches herself from the other girl, and determinedly looks anywhere but at Margaery.

"Sansa?" Margaery says hesitantly.

Sansa takes a deep breath. She owes this to Margaery, owes it to herself. "I was in a relationship," she begins. "A bad one. I stayed with him for two years or thereabouts, and I hate myself for it. He abused me constantly, and yet I stayed. I didn't know why."

She frowns, thinking back to Joffrey's cruelty.

"I still don't know why."

Margaery holds out a sympathetic hand and rests it upon Sansa's arm. The gesture is sweet, and Sansa forces herself not to flinch.

"I've been having trouble," Sansa continues, "ever since I left him. Panic attacks and whatnot. Nightmares. I've been scared to pursue a proper relationship, and I've avoided it until now, until I saw you. And Margaery, you're beautiful, and easy to talk to, and you're kind and - "

Margaery hushes her. "Sansa," she says tentatively. "I shouldn't have been so persistent, I shouldn't have rushed you into this. We've just met about twenty minutes ago and I've already shoved my tongue down your throat. I want to take this slowly. You deserve that Sansa, and so much more. Belive me."

Sansa smiles shyly. "Could we maybe get to know each other first? And then maybe see about a relationship?"

This isn't Margaery's usual style, granted. Normally her idea of a partner is a one night fling and an awkward parting in the morning, accompanied with the promise of a second date that she'll never keep. Sansa however is different. Sansa who looks at her with those sharp blue eyes amidst a face of porcelain curtained by a cascade of red locks, Sansa who smiles hopefully when proposing the idea of a gradual build up to a relationship.

"Yeah," Margaery says softly. "I'd love that." And she mentally ponders as go how she's going to rid her shared flat of Loras and Renly for the night, before deciding it's a matter to worry about later. "How about you come back to my place tonight? Chick flicks and pizza sound good to you?"

\-----

"What an asshole," Arya mutters as Theon leaves them. Cheeks burning, she decidedly looks anywhere but at Gendry.

"Tell me about it," Gendry says. "Hey, look one item of interest we can bond over - the fact that your brother in law is an asshole."

"Ugh," Arya shudders in mock horror. "Don't remind me of his new status. He's sappy and way to into PDA and has shitty taste in music."

"Tell me about it," Gendry says in agreement. He gestures towards the venue's band in disgust. "The Ironborn? I mean, seriously? Talk about shitty rock wannabees. There's only one band in today's rock music worth talking about and that's - "

"Nymeria's Pack," they say simultaneously.

They gawp and grin at one another for a brief three seconds of silence before the conversation breaks loose.

"Oh my god did you see the in The Vale last year?" Arya asks.

"I wish. Apparently they played for three hours straight, and Lady's Lament was sung twice."

"Oh my god, Lady's Lament is like the greatest song ever. It's so underrated. They're like the FC Riverrun of music."

"You support Riverrun? No way, me too!"

"Course I do, my uncle Edmure is the captain."

"Wait, that's Edmure Tully? The one who broke down when Robb and Theon exchanged vows."

"That's the one. He's good at his sport but an embarrassment to the family."

"Oh tell me about it. I know all about embarrassing uncles. Strictly speaking Renly is my uncle and last time I saw him was during the reception before he sneaked off to make out with Loras Tyrell."

Arya can't suppress her laughter, maybe it's the lightweight feeling of the alcohol or maybe it's the fact that Gendry is damn good company. He offers to get her another drink, and she accepts and they challenge one another to a drink off (which Arya wins - she can out drink anyone, aside from perhaps her father's best friend Robert and Robert's wife Cersei) much to the amusement of those around them - or in Catelyn's case the utter horror.

At some point after the drink off, Arya is nudged by Bran who wheels himself beside her, and points to the direction of the hall's backroom where Sansa is emerging arm in arm with a beautiful brunette girl.

"She's moving on," Bran says in approval.

"Good for her," Arya agrees hiccuping slightly. "She's miles better than Joffrey, I can tell."

"Speaking off, I don't think Sansa's the only one with a dark haired admirer," Bran says slyly, nodding in Gendry's direction.

Arya elbows him fiercely. "Oh shut up. Now why don't you go and bug Jojen instead of me? I'm sure he's missing you."

Bran glares at her, and Arya doesn't miss the tinge of red rising in his cheeks.

Speeches are given by Asha and Jon - the former of which includes several swear words, causing Jon to cover a bemused Rickon's ears. Jon's own speech is interrupted by Ygritte who applauds at almost everything he says, must to his apparent embarrassment.

And then of course some idiot has to call for a couple's dance. Theon and Robb take the floor first, and they're surprisingly good dancers, Arya has to admit begrudgingly. Then Ned drags a blushing Cat on the floor - ugh gross, who wants to see their parents getting sappy - and they're closely followed by Jon and Ygritte. Ygritte's preferred form of dancing appears to be stomping, and Jon is so terrible at it, it almost hurts to watch him. Renly and Loras appear seemingly out of nowhere (Renly boasting of several hickeys that Arya is certain were not present earlier on in the day) to join, and Sam and Gilly are adorably swaying to the (catchy albeit rubbish music), and Oberyn and Ellaria are dancing in an extremely provocative manner, which Aunt Lysa takes as a queue to usher Robert out the door. Arya finds a hard dig at her side and angrily swats her brother's head.

Bran dodges her efficiently, and nods towards Gendry. "Just dance already you two," he says and Arya glares at him yet again.

"Don't worry Arya," cuts in a smooth voice. "I'll take him from you."

"Thanks Jojen," Arya says gratefully, emphatically rolling her eyes when Jojen leans downward to kiss Bran's forehead. "Saps," she mutters.

Arya sees Jojen raise a skeptical eyebrow, and take his attention of Bran for a brief second so, in a very uncharacteristic move on his behalf, he can shove her practically into Gendry's arms. Arya briefly blames the influence of her own family for Jojen's newfound mischievous nature, but she barely has time to contemplate it, because Gendry's smiling down at her. Damn her small stature, he's an absolute giant compared to her and no she does not enjoy being the heifht that is ideal to rest her head upon his perfectly muscled chest - not that she's been admiring it.

"Arya?" he questions in surprise.

"Just dance with me you idiot," she says fondly. "I know it's shitty music but who cares because I like you and you're genuinely nice and you have great muscles and you're extremely hot and fuck this isn't me talking at all it's the alcohol and - "

And then Gendry leans down and presses his mouth against her own and he tastes of wedding cake and wine, and everything that is right in the world.

\-----

"So you want to dance?" Margaery asks her.

Sansa bites her lip and weighs the situation before her. Dancing is nice, yes. But she needs to take things slowly. Not just for herself but for Margaery too.

"Could we go back to your place?" she asks. "I mean it would be nice I think, you know just to be alone and bond."

Margaery nods and extends an arm for Sansa to loop her own into. Sansa complies, and the two leave the hall arm in arm.

The taxi to Margaery's is short and Margaery point blank refuses to allow Sansa to pitch it some money. Her flat - which she shares with her brother and his boyfriend she informs Sansa - is well kept and fairly large. It hosts two large bedrooms, one spare guest room, a modernised kitchen, cosy sitting room and an assortment of other rooms.

It's a nice place, Sansa thinks as she types out a message to Robb to inform him of her whereabouts. And Margaery is a nice girl, her mind adds slyly as Margaery curls up on the opposite side of the couch, offering Sansa her share of the pizza.

The film is entertaining but the two pay little heed to the screen's going-ons, far too consumed with conversing with one another. At some point Margaery ends up with her head in Sansa's lap, pizza and any notions of taking it slow left aside.

And it feels right, Sansa reflects. Granted she isn't ready for anything too extreme as of now, but she likes Margaery, likes her soft laugh and doe shaped eyes, likes threading her fingers through Margaery's curls. She feels a lot safer than she ever did with Joffrey, and for the first time in as long as Sansa can remember, she feels perfectly okay .

\-----  
"I can't believe my sisters used our wedding as a chance to hook up with our friends," Robb says in disbelief as he shrugs out his suit and folds it up neatly.

Theon is already on their bed, suit thrown carelessly on the ground. "I can't belive you're thinking of your sisters when we could be having wedding sex," he says with a smirk, winking shamelessly. "Seriously, hurry up Robb."

Robb grins and hastily finishes his folding, so he too can rest upon their bed.

"Happy Wedding," he says to his husband - holy shit, it's amazing to finally be able to think that - as he kisses Theon with passion.

"Everything's perfect," he mutters against Theon's mouth.

Theon kisses him in obvious agreement.

/END/

**Author's Note:**

> wtf another throbb ending scene im such trash sorry
> 
> feedback is always appreciated!


End file.
